rich girl

I have a friend who has taught me this truth lately. (Katy you know I'm talkin' bout you.)

Education would also fall into this category. I guess you could also buy stocks, and they could pay off and make you richer, but I'm talking about real riches here. 

Here's what I want you to do: take a minute and remember a trip you took with your family as a kid. Think about the actual travel part. Think about the destination, and the food you had, and the funny things that happened.

What is that memory worth to you?

We talked about just flying to our destination for our summer trip. But, you know, I think there is something to be said about road trippin' with your kids. The misery. The smell. The togetherness. It's a hellofa long haul eh? Memories people. Memories. 

We are road trippin' today. We are driving cross country in the family wagon. We are taking treats. We are taking movies. We are not taking the dog. Although that was, at one point, an irrational thought.

We have quite a few trips planned for the rest of the year. Big trips and little trips. Trips with kids and without.  

I am so excited to see where all of these journeys take us.  I feel rich.

**** If you are looking to enrich your own life, there is still room for you if you'd like to come to Morocco with Mindy and I in October.****

well here we are again

Oh for heaven's sakes where has the time gone?

Here's the dealio.  I can't keep up. And I don't want to. And I don't have to, because I have been smart enough not to commit to having sponsors. Sometimes to do something right. Like every 10 years or so.

Summer is just too, hummm, (busy? no. scheduled? no. hot? no, not in Carlsbad.) lazy. Summer is too lazy to blog. 

I could give a bunch of lame excuses like we are getting all new flooring and traveling for almost four weeks and I'm focusing on sticking to my workouts.  All these things would be true, but really, I just need to slow down a bit.

I think I will give myself permisson to take a Summer break. Not that I won't be around. If I have a stroke of genius you know I'll be posting it all over the internet. But if I don't, and I want to go to the pool, then I won't be here.

Until after Labor Day.

BUT, you can still connect with me on Instagram. You can find me under Secondsister. I love The Gram! Do you have the app on your phone? It's available for iPhone and Droid.  Get it. You won't be sorry. 

And I leave you with a gift. Because that's how I roll.  

A little gift, to make life with your kids this Summer just a wee bit more organized. 

These job charts are 12X16 inches. I had mine printed out and laminated at Kinkos. It cost me $8.  I laminated so we could use dry erase markers instead of printing a new chart each week. But you could do that too. Whatever! It's Summer! No worries!

My boy earns extra money around the house by doing extra chores. I made these tickets so we can keep track of how many extra chores he has done. Heaven forbid we forget. He has important things to save up for, like gum and legos.

Silly boy. Happy Summer!

I'm going to be sending out my freebies through my email list from now on. Sign up and you can download the charts and tickets and get those kids of yours doing their chores!

banded

I love birds. And like almost everything about my personality, I believe I inherited this from my father.

As a boy my father raised show pigeons.  He took up this hobbie again in later years and he became known throughout the world as a champion bird breeder.

He has since decided that he would rather photograph wild birds than raise domesticed ones. He is an amazing photographer of wildlife.  He will sit in the cold for hours to get a good shot of an eagle or a hawk.

My father is also fiercey loyal. The day he married my mother, he became a man dedicated to a life of family goals and aspirations.

When a breeder or a researcher bands a bird, they put a small metal band around their ankle which gives information about who they are, when and where the bird was banded and a number to identify that specific bird.

The Sugar Daddy and I have been married almost twenty years. It will be nineteen years this June. Holy cow. Where did the time go?

Last week I went out to my workbench and made a band.

It states the name of the person who placed the band on my finger. The location and the date.

It felt good to be back at my workbench working with silver.

I had a helper. A grubby little imp who wants to see and do everything I do.

She's my girl. My Bird.  She wanted to be banded too.  Hers says "My Girl". This is what we call each other.

It feels good to be banded. I have a place. Every person should have a place where they belong. Where they are loved and excepted for who they are, faults and all.

Happy Monday. 

to thine own self: part III create

Let me make one thing clear.

Creativity is not defined as the ability to design.  This is a fallacy that our society has imposed.

Creativity is defined as the ability to transcend traditional ideas, rules, patterns, relationships, or the like, and to create meaningful new ideas, forms, methods, interpretations, etc.; originality, progressiveness, or imagination.

Every human is creative. Alas, it is part of what makes us human.  It is why we have the Golden Gate Bridge and the internet and Godiva cheesecake. Oh God bless the soul who created Godiva cheesecake!

You, sitting here, reading this! You are creative. And guess what. You should be using that creativity and I'll tell you why.

The creative energy that resides in each of us is not benign. It is energy and is has to go somewhere. Somebody figured that out a long time ago using their creativity. I think it was Newton maybe.

E_potential -> action

So you have this energy inside of you. And if it isn't being used it gets stored, like fat, in our cells. Often it will metastasize. Which isn't good. This means it mutates into something else. Something ugly. 

Just what it becomes is varied. Everyone is different. But the feeling that we all get from this mutant energy is the same. It feels like anxiety. Like listlessness. Like agitation.

Remember when you were a kid and you were stuck in the back seat on a long road trip and you were unable to get out and play? Remember how you would have an overwhelming urge to tease your sibling or annoy your parents? That's the feeling I'm talking about. 

People are happier when they are exercising their creativity. They are more content. Their self-esteem is higher. They are better people. Period.

Now, here is the last part of my personal happiness plan. Ready?

Be creative.

That's it. Create something. Anything. Today and tomorrow and every other day after that. 

And don't worry- I've heard all the excuses about no time, no money, no ideas. 

To hell with circumstances. Create opportunity.  Bruce Lee said that.

It's not easy. Nothing worth doing is ever easy. Usually when I am working on a project I have to stop a billion times to change a diaper, get a snack, break up a fight, answer the phone or make a meal.  I can't afford to buy the top of the line supplies all the time. Sometimes I try and try and try to get something right until I am so frustrated I can hardly stand myself. It's not easy.


Sometimes you have to push boundaries. Think outside the box to make things work.

I recently saw a film that perfectly illustrates what it means to create opportunity. Here's a clip:

You were born to create. Fulfilling this potential will bring you joy. This I know for sure.

Start today. 

frankie valentine turns two

He's a quirky little scrap of a kid. He likes Curious George and climbing and skate boards and airplanes. Always airplanes. He is rough and tough and incredibly soft and loving all at once. He whispers my name "A-pole" into my ear when I hold him in my arms.

His birth rocked our world. He is the best thing to happen to us that we thought we didn't want.

God is great.

Happy Birthday Henry. We love you to the moon and back.

to thine own self: part the second- the satisfaction cup theory

Happy Friday friends.

I meant to have this message up first thing this morning but, well life happened.

First off, a big thank you to all of you who have contacted me about my post "To Thine Own Self".  I have received more emails, facebook messages and phone calls about that post than anything else I have ever written.  All of you are thanking me for having written it, but the truth is, I need to be thanking you for all your feedback. It has been a long journey for me and it makes my heart sing that others can also benefit.

I wrote the basic bones of what I do in my life to stay the happiest possible.  There is more. I never intended to write "how to" guides on being happy. I feel like I am much more adept at writing about hot glue and paint, than self improvement. However, I also want to share the things that make my life better. I think we should all be a lot more forth coming with the things that could help other people.

So I'm writing today to share with you the theory of the "Satisfaction Cup".  My father came up with this theory some years ago. Our entire family has adopted it into our lives. It goes something like this:

Everyday you wake up with an empty cup to fill.  During the day, you will fill this cup with the things you do. Every person has a different recipe for what they need to fill their cups with in order to feel happy and satisfied by the end of the day. For example, I have learned that everyday, I need to have a few hours of productive work, a few hours of creativity, some quality time with my family, exercise, a little play and down time.  If I can fit all these things into my day, I go to bed tired and very happy.

Like I said before, everyone is different. My best friend needs a lot of play in her day to feel satisfied. Another friend needs a little service to others to be happy.  You might need reading time or religious worship or lot of time to sit and do nothing. You must get real with yourself and figure out what it is you need to feel satisfied at the end of the day.

Keep in mind that there are days that vary. For instance, if you go on vacation, your day will be very different. Sundays at my house are different from other days of the week. The satisfaction cup is a general application to your everyday routine.

You will know at the end of the day if your cup isn't full. The feeling is unmistakable. You feel hungry. Maybe literally hungry, maybe figuratively hungry. If I find myself snacking late at night it is most often because my cup didn't get filled for the day. I'm not really hungry for food, I'm just trying to satisfy. Sometimes I do other things at the end of the day like waste time on the internet shopping or channel surf on t.v.  Most often the things we do when our cups hasn't been filled are negative and unproductive.  Sometimes they are even destructive, like picking fights with people or gossiping.

Yesterday I filled my cup to overflowing. I got up and got the kids bathed and dressed. Took The Boy to school and then took the two babies to the doctor for check-ups (work). After the doctor we went to TJMaxx and I shopped for a birthday gift (play). Then we went home and we had a picnic outside for lunch (quality family time). Then I ran on the treadmill and did sit-ups (exercise). I cycled the wash, did a little work on the computer, did a general pick-up through my house and baked a cake for Frankie's birthday party tomorrow (work). I took The Boy to scouts and then I spent some time creating party hats and favours for the party (creativity). We had dinner together and studied spelling words and then it was time for pajamas and bed and then a little veg time holding the babies and watching kids shows (down time). At this point I was absolutely exhausted and I ended up falling asleep instead of writing this post. But it didn't matter because my cup was already full and I was satisfied.

Not everyday is this busy or this productive. But if I can squeeze in just enough of everything I need to feel happy and satisfied, in the evening I know that my overall outlook on life will be healthy and upbeat.

Everyday you empty the contents of your satisfaction cup into your "Life Satisfaction Cup". If this cup isn't kept full, you will start to feel the effects. You will have a searching feeling. You will feel unsatisfied with the life you are living. You will tend to focus on the negative things instead of the things that make you happy.

So here's what you need to do: 

First, identify what it is you personally need in each day to feel happy and productive. Be honest. I wish I could say that giving service was one of the things I need. Alas, it is not. Think about how your long term goals play into this.

Second, check yourself throughout your day to make sure you are managing your time so that you will be able to get in all the things you need.

Third, know that everyday is different and be flexible.  If you work like a dog one day, you might not need much work in the days that follow to feel satisfied.

As I said before, happiness is not an absolute. There are so many factors that happen in our lives that play into how we feel emotionally. But the point is to work on those things that we can control.

Working toward happiness is always much better than the alternative.

Next Friday I will share with you the last aspect of my own person happiness plan. I hope you find these things as pertinent as you did the concepts in the first post.

Now carpe the diem out of today!

Sharing pics of Frankie Valentine's second birthday on Monday!

to thine own self: thoughts on happiness

Many years ago I was living in a place I didn’t like. I was working at a job I didn’t like. I was struggling with infertility and what I thought was my only bright spot in life, my husband, was gone all the time with work.

It was at this time that a friend of mine happened to come into the office where I was working. On his way out the door, he made an off hand comment about going to have his weekly treat.

I was curious and asked exactly what he was going to do. “I’m going to go get my weekly cigar and smoke it on my commute home. I give myself a treat every Friday afternoon as a reward for making it through another week of work.” He explained.

Now, I am completely against smoking and if I had been a more brazen girl, I might have challenged him to quit and find another treat. But at the time I wasn’t brazen. I was bitter and unhappy and I really didn’t have it in me to worry about other people and their bad habits. After all, it is pretty hard to love others, when you do not love yourself.

But I thought a lot about the concept of treating one’s self. I was no stranger to treats. I regularly went home and “treated” myself to a heaping bowl of Ben and Jerry’s. But what I was really doing is medicating. Losing myself in calories.

Today I can say I am a happier person than I’ve ever been before. That is not a comment I make lightly. It has taken me a lot of time and practice to get to this point. I have had to make changes that at times have been painful. There is no concrete formula for happiness, but I want to share some of the things I have learned along my journey.

The first thing I want to share is an absolute truth. It is this: Nobody can make you happy. Only you can make you happy. People can add to, or take away from, your happiness, but ultimately relying on another person to change your mental state is folly.

The next truth I’ve learned is that I am enough. Like most mother’s I put a lot of pressure on myself to live some sort of imaginary life where I am superwoman and everything is hunky dory. What I’ve come to realize, and remind myself of when I forget, is that people aren’t going to love me less because I am not superwoman. I am loved because I am me, with all my flaws. People are much more interested in how they feel when they are with me than my latest accomplishment.

Another thing I have come to realize over the years is that I must try my best at the things that are most important to me. For instance, fitness is important to me. When I slag off and get out of shape, it affects my happiness. No one else cares or even knows that I didn’t get a run in or go to the gym, but it bothers me. I’ve learned that to be happy, I have to feel that I am trying my hardest at being a good parent and wife, staying fit, and developing my creative mind. This doesn’t mean I have to be perfect. I just have to feel like I’m giving it my best.

I’ve had to stop medicating and start treating. I remember looking at a photo of myself as a child and thinking, what a great kid. I like me as a kid. If I were to meet me as a child I’d want to take her out for a treat just to spend time with her. And then I thought, you know, I treat my kids to certain things when they work hard or show some sort of behavior I like, why don’t I treat myself?

The beauty of treating instead of medicating is that treats are always better than medicine. Just ask a kid.

Today my treats are things like a new pair of shoes or a nice bar of French milled soap. I do still love Ben and Jerry’s, so once a week or so I have dessert. I’ve heard it said you shouldn’t treat yourself with food. You are not a dog. BUT, I really love dessert and if I’ve been good all week, by damn I’m having dessert.

I also got rid of all the proverbial “pebbles in my shoe”. I found I had small things in my life that didn’t bother me enough to feel an urgency to fix them, but they bothered me enough to affect my overall happiness. For me, these things were a forgiveness I had to give and an overdue task I had to get done. Proverbial pebbles can be anything from a nagging body pain to a wounded relationship to an unpaid bill. Once I plucked the pebbles from my life, I realized the weight that they had put on me. Don’t underestimate the toll that small annoyances take on your happiness over time.

The last thing I’ve found that has profoundly changed my happiness is spending time alone. This means no kids, no husband, no friends, no social media. At first it was hard. And a little boring. I am so plugged into my crazy life that it took me a while to get used to quiet.

My alone time is when I run. I used to only want to do long runs with friends, but when I moved I found myself with no running partner. And I discovered my stream of conscience. I find that my best ideas come when I am alone with my thoughts. Funny how that works. And the added bonus is that good ideas have a way of boosting your ego. Even if you never share a good idea or implement it, just having it will make you feel pleased with yourself.

Happiness is always a work in progress. Life happens. Profoundly sad things happen. Sometimes people need professional help to get back on the right path towards happiness. But working towards happiness is much better than the alternative.

If you feel that it is time to quit wallowing and start living, here are my tips to get started.

1. Decide what you want to treat yourself to and what you will do to earn it.

2. List the things that are most important to you. Keep the list where you can see it often to remind you check yourself in these areas.

3. Get rid of the pebble in your shoe.

4. Schedule alone time.

5. Practice saying, “I am enough” to your self. When you start to compare your life to others stop and think. “I am enough. I don’t need to do what other people are doing to be the best me.”

I hope you are happy. I hope my discoveries are something you have known all along. But if you are not, and you want to make some changes, give them a go.

They have changed my life. They have made me a better mom, wife, friend and artist.

But I still claim my rightful spot in the Work in Progress Society. 

image by bubbla loo photograhpy

for the love of maps

I've been busy. Really busy.

The littles are keeping me running. All. The. Time.

My house is a mess.

My yard is a jungle.

But I'm happy. Busy is good, even if you look like the hillbillies of the neighborhood.

I've been trying to keep up, and at the same time squeeze in studio time.  Sometimes when my life is at it's craziest, my creativity sky rockets. Not sure why. Just happens.

My current artistic obsession? Maps. I have always loved maps (all old paper ephemera really) and used them in my art, but lately I just can't get enough.

I recently found the work of Elizbeth Lecourt.  I'm besotted. Simply, over-the-top gaga.

Oh how I would love to make Birdie that last dress! I did find this map fabric that might work.

Hummmm. Another project?

journey

Well we're off.

Tomorrow we will hop on a plane and take the kids to play in the snow. 

And when I say "hop on a plane", what I really mean is pack for hours, drag crying children out of bed early in the morning, schelp ourselves to the airport, disrobe the children and ourselves to go through security, eat a fattening meal and wrestle the babies for two hours to keep them quiet on the flight.

I pray one of them doesn't poop during the flight. Been there. Done that. Don't want to do it again.

My friend Wendy Whitacre is a photographer who just started a world tour. Yesterday, on her flight to Costa Rica, a woman gave birth. In the airplane. No kidding.

Now if I could just get something like that to happen, and divert the attention from my noisy kids, I'd be golden.

But you know, it's all good. I've been beaten down learned enough to know that family vacations are important. Are they miserable? Yes. But important.

Au revoir my lovelies. I see you on the other side of hell.

love tokens

What tiny treasures rattle around in the bottom of your jewelry box? In your travels, have you ever picked up a shell, a cool pop top, a postage stamp, a skipping stone? Do you keep your children's teeth as they fall out?

I find that for most of my life I have been a bit of a squirrel. I gather and stash all sorts of tiny things. To me, they are like the crumbs of bread that Hanzel and Gretel dropped to find their way back home. My little treasures lead me mentally back through the years, back to my childhood.

Some of my most treasured possessions would be worthless to anyone else. I have a small crumpled paper with the name “Ben” and a phone number scribbled on it. It was the first thing he ever gave me. I have a stone he found in the forest. It is shaped like a heart and I was delighted when he left it on my pillow. I have a tiny withered daisy that my son gave me one afternoon. I have a small wooden spoon my best friend carved.

They are just things. But every so often I hold them in my hands and I feel loved.

Someday, I will write down what each love token means to me, where I got it and who gave it to me. And in the mean time, I will continue to keep and treasure and hopefully give a few love tokens in return.

the obligation

photo taken by my dad

I was born of goodly parents.  Salt of the Earth types.

Hard working people.  They love God, each other and their nation.  

They are extremely predictable, never risk takers or booty shakers, but they are happy, and they taught me how to find happiness in my own life.

The blessing of such parents has a magnitude weighty enough to set a person firmly on the right path.

My mother taught me how to be a good mother. She has a knack for finding joy in life's small moments. She laughs at herself often and she's easy to please. She used the same wooden spoon to cook delicious hot meals and spank our bottoms.

My father has many interests and hobbies.  He works hard at his job and harder at his hobbies.  He's an aerospace engineer, runner, mountain biker, back country skier, photographer, kayak maker and at one point he was a world renown pigeon raiser. He also has a fierce streak of OCD and ADD.

Obviously.

With each passing year, I see the traits of my parents in myself.  Some I'm happy about. Some I'm not. 

But there's this:

Because they have lived honorable lives, and done the things which are right in the sight of God, there is an unspoken obligation.

It says that I am obligated to carry on the good name. I have no excuses. I've been taught.  This obligation is a weight on my shoulders and the ground that I stand on all at the same time.  It's strange. I hate having to live up to someone else's standard, but I firmly believe freedom is found in knowing who you are and where you came from.

I was born of goodly parents and I pray everyday that I can be one too. 

It isn't easy.

picture perfect

Annnnnd Christmas is underway.

I took attempted to take the family photo for the cards this weekend. Tell me. What is it about photo taking that makes children turn into raucous fiends?  My children behave better when getting their inoculations. No kidding.

So of about 30 pictures that I fired off in rapid succession before the whole crew mutinied on me, I got one. One messily photo. And the Bird isn't even looking at the camera. She's taunting her brother.  And Frankie looks all disproportionate and weird with a pumpkin coming out of his neck and fruit snacks in his hand.  And the Boy, well... just look.

But I was over perfect a loooong time ago. And just like last year, I'm sending out this photo in hopes that people will see us for who we really are and love us anyway.

peace on earth

The children that live with me seem to like to fight. A lot.

The babies are the main culprits.  There is screaming and hitting and pulling hair and yes, unfortunately, even biting.  The problem seems to be that they are both of the age where they believe they own the world and everything in it. And nobody is allowed to touch or look at anything they own. Or look directly at them while they are carrying one of their possessions.

It's really quite exhausting.

Now the boy, he's a teaser. A heckler. An instigator.  He knows allll the right buttons to push when it comes to the babies.

Like I said before, there's a lot of screaming.

So out of pure desperation, I have declared this Christmas to be the year of "Peace on Earth". (Read Peace in the Meeker House.) I'm also for world peace and all, but it's baby steps people. Baby steps.

So far it's not working.

They have fought over ornaments. They have fought over who gets to open the advent calendar.  They fought over Christmas music lyrics. They even fought over the baby Jesus in our navitity. Baby Jesus!

Oy.

Here's the DIY details on the mantle:

The trees are just foam cones covered with felt. I don't use cheap felt. Ever. It's just not worth it. Find good felt if you can!

I used a Sizzix machine to cut the circles of felt for the garland. I ran them through my sewing machine to join them together.

The peace dove felt cut outs and jingle bell wreaths are from Target $1 Spot. I made bows out of felt to top the wreaths.

The letters are from Paper Source. They are paper mache that I painted silver and then used pattern craft paper to embellish.

The wreath is made from two pool noodles. I used one noodle to create a circle. I duck taped the ends together. Then I used the other noodle to make the inside lines of the peace sign.  Again I used duck tape to secure the pieces to the outside circle.

I spray painted the noodle peace sign silver.

From Target $1 Spot, I bought tubes of small plastic Christmas bulbs.  My wreath took about 450 bulbs. I cut the top hanger part off the bulbs and hot glued them to the noodle wreath. I wasn't able to get all my bulbs in silver so I had to then spray paint all the bulbs silver. I highly recommend Valspar paint. It covers really well with very little paint. I glittered some of the bulbs for dimension.

I cut up a strand of tinsel and filled in the small gaps between the bulbs.

The end result is one super sparkly peace wreath.

The mercury glass pieces are all part of my collection. I found the vintage strands of beads on Ebay. I got the blue trees at Home Goods this year. I was so excited to find them.

So there you have it.

Even if it does nothing for the children, it inspires me to try to be the peace maker instead of screaming at them for screaming at each other.

********************************

Okay! The winner of the Mindy Gledhill "Winter Moon" album is Katie Johnson who told me about the She and Him Album, that my husband also recommended, that I love love love.

Katie send me your address!

photo

I really hope Mr. Gunnar Ekelund doesn't mind that I colorized his photo.

It's just that when I saw it, I was overcome.

The mannequins in the window look like the Barbies I used to play with at my grandmother's house.

I swear they were some of the first Barbies ever released. They were probably worth a mint. But my grandmother would never bother with that kind of stuff. Not when it came to me, or my sisters and cousins. We were her prized possessions.

Seeing this photo made me miss her to the very core of my being.

Funny how a simple photo can do something like that.

this life

1. Blue-Gray Pumpkins, 2. European Eagle Owl - Black and White, 3. Untitled, 4. Lecidea lapicida 20040404_5469

Aren't grey pumpkins just the cat's pajamas? I'm so glad they exist.

I went down the way to get the mail and the crew moseyed along behind me. The dog sniffed and peed. Little Frankie Valentine squinted up at the rooftops where the crows where having some sort of heated conversation. The Bird smelled the neighbors roses, because she is a girl and this is what girls do.

And then we found the crunchy leafs. And we stomped on them and the sound was delightful. Better even than popping bubble wrap.

There were only bills in the mail.

The bug prevention man told me to watch out for black widows because they come closer to the house when the weather cools.

I fell madly in love with a dress. But the only size left was a size too small, but I bought it anyway. I'm being optimistic. Final sale. No returns.

I have been sharpening lots of pencils in my studio and sometimes, as I'm passing by, I stick my head in the room and breath in that wonderful smell of wood and graphite.

Life is happening. The minutes are adding up. I believe that if I don't enjoy this life I have, it is an insult to God.

On that note, I'd also like to say that I really love orange and grey together. So happy we have those colors aren't you?

win win

The Sugar Daddy and I rented the movie "Win Win". We had really wanted to see it because it was written  and directed by one of our favorite screenwriters.

If you haven't seen it, I won't ruin it for you by telling the story. I'll just say it's about a family, well really just a man,  who is coping with all the stresses of daily life and not doing too well.  The children are needy and the bills are heavy. 

He eats a lot of ice cream late at night.

At a certain point in the movie, Sugar Daddy and I looked at each other and commented that it felt like we were watching our own life play out before us.  The guy in the movie is pretty bad off.  We aren't bad off. But the Sugar Daddy does like to drown his troubles in a bowl of Ben and Jerry's.

 It's the daily stress that we feel acutely. The kind of stress that can drive you to do crazy things if you don't manage it.

I love my husband. I love my children.  I love my life. The older I get, the more I realize that the American dream isn't cheap.  Every single thing you add into your life comes with a price.  

Szun Wu, Thom's beta fish died this week. I felt sad. For a fish. Everything has it's price. Szun Wu cost $3 and a couple days worth of grief.

To be fair, he was a magnificent beta in his heyday.

I've heard it said that no one would do anything if they knew exactly what they were getting themselves into.

If this is true, I hope I stay as naive as possible.  I have found that when all is said and done, things that require the most work, yield the best returns.

You know, like kids and husbands and houses and the like.

memory

Ever notice how life barrels on whether you are ready or not?

You might not be ready to let go of the moment you are living in.

You might not be ready to let your children grow. Or your business. Or your butt.

But life is what happens while you are enjoying that latest creative venture, or that snuggle with your baby or that bread pudding with dark French chocolate and creme fresh. 

It's like herding cats, trying to keep things from changing. Impossible.

But I can document what is it like in these moments I am loving.  I can photograph my children everyday single day. I can write down my favorite recipes. I can try to describe what it is like to hold Frankie's pudgy little hands. They feel like marshmallows. Soft and downy. 

When these days are long gone, when I am old and lonesome for the good ol' days when my children were young, I can take down my memory books. I will close my eyes and let the memories wash over me. 

In this way I will save today. 

How are you saving your memories?

drifting

Sometimes I get lonesome for the Sugar Daddy. Even when we are together. 

And by together, I mean, padding around in the same house. Passing each other in the kitchen.

The Sugar Daddy likes to unwind his curly thoughts by watching strange old movies that usually have subtitles and orchestra music with lots of sharps. I do not share this affection. And so we are seldom together during those hours of the evening when we both mentally check out of life as we know it.

And sometimes I miss him. But not enough to endure a Korean war film circa 1956. Not even Junior Mints could get me through that.

I have a low rumbling in the nether reaches of my brain that is telling me that the two of us need to get away. We need to check out of life as we know it for a few days. Maybe a week.

We need to be together, together. For real. Not just in the same house.

It's so easy to drift away from each other. Especially in these stormy seas we are navigating. And the bottom line is that the Sugar Daddy is too good looking to watch from afar. 

I need him up close.

holding on

It is evening and the heat of the day has gone with the sunshine.

We have opened the windows to let in the cool night air and to listen to the crickets that have become part of the soundtrack of our daily life.

I can hear several night games taking place throughout our neighborhood. Children of various ages are running through the streets and across dewy lawns letting out shrieks of laughter as they go.

Every once in a while the low murmur of adult instruction breaks their joyful play. Their mothers are calling them. It is time to come in . It is getting late.

But the children are reluctant. They are holding on. Summer is slipping away. They are holding on to these last few days of carefree bliss. They are wise to what lies ahead and they are living in the moment.

I am reminded that children can be wise beyond their years.  Now is the time to savour. Now is the time to live in the moment, because tomorrow it shall be gone.

i'm bored

Ahhhh. It's that lovely time of year when the phrase can be heard reverberating through the halls of home, "I'm bored Mom."  It can easily become the Summer mantra if you aren't prepared with an arsenal of activities to keep it at bay. 

Here's some of the things I have ready to dish out this season should the boy, heaven forbid, run out of things to do.

First off, the ice cream ball. We tried it out. It was super easy and it kept the boys occupied for at least a half hour.

We made pink peppermint.

Second idea: Where is it?

I went around my house with my iPhone and took a bunch of super tight photos of things found in different rooms.  The game is for Thom to try to remember where in the house the items can be found.

He wandered around the house for a good forty-five minutes trying to find where the picture were taken.

So, I shared. It's your turn. Gemme some ideas for easy time fillers. What do you say when your kid says, "Mom I'm bored."?